The Other Woman
by AnnaHuntsman
Summary: Two years after the death of the Arch-Demon King Alistair is getting married, the only person who isn't thrilled is the Hero of Ferelden.
1. Chapter 1

The wind ruffled Meerene's hair messily as she waved excitedly to the people who had gathered on the busy docks to greet her. There must have been hundreds filling the muddy streets along the banks all striving to get a look at the arriving Antivan ship and her precious cargo. Her companion, Pyra, frowned beside her at the fish smell of the port, the course shouts of the sailors guiding the ship to its place and the sprawling city spreading before her.

"You should get down my Lady," she said watching Meerene's precarious position on the railings, "you'll be a mess by the time we're on solid ground." Meerene's rolled her eyes and glanced down at Pyra.

"They've come to see me, I shouldn't disappoint them on my first day here. Besides, I feel sick when I'm below decks. You can help me clean myself up before we disembark." Pyra leant her back against the railings.

"Very well Lady but if it were me I would want to look my best before I met my husband." Meerene shook her head.

"Alistair will forgive me if I am not perfect so long as it is to please my new people," her voice spoke the name confidently but she saw Pyra's face crinkle at her avoidance of the title. It had been six months since Meerene had discovered that she was to marry the King of Ferelden yet today was set to be their first meeting, less than a week before their wedding. In the intervening time she had found out all that she could about the young man; he was tall and comely, he was twenty-five and he was raised in the Chantry. He was also a bastard, at first this had been something of a scandal in Ferelden but such things were of little consequence in her native Antiva. He came to the throne at the end of the blight, whispers said that he had been there when the final blow had been struck and that he was too close to the Grey Wardens for comfort. He rarely drank and he did not gamble but some said he talked too freely and gave his friendship too cheaply. When it came to women the rumours were surprisingly few, some said his Chantry upbringing had left him unwilling to take mistresses, some said he was simply impressively discreet, a few suggested that he was incapable and fewer still said that his preference was for men. Meerene had been too long at the Antivan court to have expected a faithful husband but her hopes had been rising the more that she heard about Alistair. Taken together, the facts that she had were minimal and came from unreliable lips.

When Meerene's father, Lord Maron, had sat her down and told her of the marriage that he had managed to arrange he had introduced her to a new tutor. He had said that he was too concerned with her happiness to send her to a loveless marriage, instead the courtesan Dayla would teach her how to win the foreign King's heart. Courtesans in Antiva were highly thought of, respectable women and Dayla was the darling of the court. Meerene thought at first to object, she thought that she could make a man love her without a Courtesan's tricks; many of the boys at court tried to catch her eye as she passed, she was never without a dance partner and she could amuse them in conversation well enough. When Dayla had entered the room however, Meerene had been dazzled by the brightness of the jewels sewn into her gown, the elegance of her gait and the grace of her smile. Dayla had sat down, her skirts fanning about her and waited quietly for Lord Maron to leave. Once the door was closed and they were alone she had rung the bell for tea and looked at Meerene critically.

"Now, I dont know what you expect from me but we will have no vulgarity; a man always hopes for an innocent in his bed on his wedding night, although many are disappointed. Unless you have already been plucked? In which case I can teach you to hide it well." Meerene's cheeks had reddened and she had lowered her eyes. Dayla had chuckled, "I thought not, you blush prettily, make sure to let him see it the first time he touches you." The tea arrived giving Meerene time to recover her composure while Dayla thanked the servant graciously. When the door closed Meerene leant forward.

"If that's not what you are here to tell me then how can you help?" Dayla picked up the kettle with her dainty fingers and poured them both cups.

"I don't need to teach you to get in his bed, your father had guaranteed your place there, but I can show you how to get into his heart." There began Meerene's most unusual education. She learnt how to listen as though even the oldest story was a new delight, how to speak so as to enchant the ears and how to support her husband's conversation so that he shone. Dayla showed her how to comfort a King without making him feel weak, how to tell when to divert him with entertainment, when to allow him to vent his woes to her and when all he needed was her absence. She learnt how to catch his attention with a glance, how to turn her head to show her neck to its best advantage and how to suggest the curves of her body without appearing immodest. A whole new wardrobe had been purchased to Dayla's instructions and appropriate gifts for both the King and her new ladies who would be chosen from Ferelden's court.

"When it comes to other women you must be tactful," Dayla had said when they were taking cool sherbets on the balcony overlooking the ocean, "I have sent word to friends in Ferelden to try to find out the Kings preferences and who he currently favours. I am not sure what to make of the results, all my informants claim to know absolutely nothing." Dayla sounded annoyed at the failure of her sources, "it seems that King Alistair lives as a monk, it's not a common way for Kings to live but it's not unheard of. You may be one of the rare and lucky Queens who have no need to fear the influence of mistresses. However, we should cover the subject briefly in case my informants have merely missed someone or his behaviour changes in future. Bear in mind that you are not an ordinary wife and he is not an ordinary husband; you have no right to expect fidelity and he has every right to take your life if you are untrue. You are a Queen and you must not notice his attention to anyone else, never scold him, never ask him to stop and never act against his mistresses. However, you cannot let him treat you with disrespect publicly or the rest of the court will feel able to do the same; agree not to complain so long as he keeps his behaviour pivate, so long as he is not a fool he will agree to that." Dayla's voice became suddenly hard and firm, " the exception is if he turns his attention to a woman of great power who may have ambitions to replace you. If it looks like this may happen you must fight it every step of the way. Do not confront him but find ways to remove her; get her relatives positions away from court, spread rumours that she is a slut, that she had a venereal disease, that she is a foreign spy or the pawn of her powerful family, anything that could put him off. If all else fails pay someone to seduce her and ensure that the King hears of it, better still arrange for him to see it with his own eyes. It goes without saying that he must never suspect your hand in her fall."

Dayla had been one of the few to accompany Meerene to the ship that was to take her to Ferelden. They had been almost at the gangplank when Dayla took her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. She pushed Meerene's hair back from her face and smiled.

"He will adore you my dear, I would fear to compete for him myself. Remeber though that there is only so much that you can do; a few men will never be moved by your charms and this is not your fault but you could still have a good life. Make the people of Ferelden love you and they will ensure that the King shows you nothing but respect, if they adore you he must be seen to do the same. His heart will make your life more pleasant, theirs will keep you safe. Now take care of yourself and invite me to court one day."

Now the ship was settled in Ferelden's harbour and Pyra had redone Meerene's long golden hair so that it rested flawlessly on her head. She was trembling as she placed her bright white shoe on the walkway to the shore and stepped out in front of the people of the city of Denerim. The cheering grew in volume and enthusiasm as the young beauty made her way to the open carriage that was to take her to the palace. She was joined by Pyra and Lord Gelan who was sent by the Antivan King to represent her until her marriage. All the way there the streets were full and the noise so great that it rang in her ears. Streamers hung from the buildings and flowers were thrown into her path. By the time that they drew up outside the palace Meerene had gathered so many of the flowers into her arms that she could barely see over them, she hesitated to drop them as she wondered if those who saw her do so would be offended by her lack of respect for their gifts. Pyra took them from her and placed them on the seat at her side so that Meerene was able to stand and descend from the carriage gracefully.

Meerene looked up at the vast palace before her, it was much more imposing than the King's palace in Antiva city with towering turrets and dark grey stone. A massive staircase lined with nobles led up to the tall gates where the royal party was standing. The King was easy to spot in shining golden armour imprinted with the royal crest and a long cloak of pure white. Meerene took Lord Gelan's offered arm and kept her face lowered as she walked carefully up the stone steps. She was suddenly afraid that she might slip although the steps were perfectly even. They came to a stop at the top of the chairs and Gelan's bowed while Meerene drew her skirts out in a deep curtsey. They straightened but Meerene kept her face lowered.

"Your Majesty, his radiance Feron, the King of Antiva, sends his greetings and gifts for the King of Ferelden," servants carried the heavy chest of gold and jewels to the top of the stairs and to one side.

"Ferelden thanks his Majesty for these beautiful gifts and bids you welcome to our shores," the King's voice was firm and deep, as a King's should be Meerene thought.

"Your Majesty, it is my great pleasure to introduce the Lady Meerene, dearest niece of King Feron and Antiva's brightest jewel." Meerene raised her eyes, her heart pounding so hard she felt it may tear through her chest, and looked into the hazel eyes of the man who she was to marry. She was not disappointed. He was tall, with short strawberry blonde hair and a warm smile. His armour fitted his broad frame snuggly and reflected the light in his handsome eyes. Her breath caught as she smiled, letting her nerves show. The King stepped forward and extended his gloved hand to take hers, her fingers felt small on his palm.

"My Lady it is a great pleasure to meet you at last. I hope that the sea voyage has not tired you overmuch, there is a celebration in your honour prepared inside."

"Thank you your Majesty, I found the sea air to be quite invigorating but it is good to be back on firm ground. Your city is quite magnificent." The King laughed.

"I am glad you think it so, my closest Antivan friend tells me that nothing we have here can match the beauty of the parks and fountains of Antiva city. As he tells it Denerim is only barely fit for people to live in. Now let us eat, I am quite famished." The trumpets sounded and the King led the way into the palace, Meerene close to his side.

"I hope I did not keep you waiting too long Alistair," he looked down at her with a frown and she wondered if Dayla had been wrong to tell her to dispense with titles as quickly as possible but his smile returned quickly.

"No, you were right on time. We have prepared a small reception for you but if you would prefer to rest you would be more than welcome." Meerene shook her head eager to make a good first impression on the court.

"I'm anxious to meet your people," she said with a dazzling smile. He turned into a small hall where a carefully selected and welcoming group of courtiers awaited her Alistair watched her navigate the room expertly, speaking to everyone and enchanting them all. He bit his lip nervously, in two nights he would be in bed with this beautiful, sparkling woman. He frowned wondering whether the prospect was more or less terrifying than facing the Arch-Demon.


	2. Chapter 2

Meerene could hear the gentle rustle of the gravel beneath her feet and the hem of her skirt. She could hear the birds singing in the ornamental bushes and the gentle sound of the droplets from the fountain raining down into the cold, clear pool at the centre of the castle's courtyard. Behind them she could hear the hushed tittering of their chaperones, Pyra and Lady Adara, who was to be one of her ladies in waiting once she took her place as queen. She could also hear the firmer crunch of the gravel beneath Alistair's feet as he walked at her side but he did not speak.

Meerene had slept deeply following the reception, exhausted following her sea crossing and the effort of making so many good first impressions. Pyra had woken her at dawn insisting that she bathe, spend an hour intricately braiding her hair and try on inumerable dresses until she was deemed presentable for her walk with the King. Now Meerene was nervous but carefully concealing it. Alistair had greeted her warmly and escorted her into the garden but since then they had walked in silence, she did not think it would be wise to be the one to broach it.

Beside Meerene Alistair looked over his shoulder, ensuring that they would not be overheard, what he had to say was for her ears alone. He was nervous; this was the closest that he had yet come to being alone with his bride. He had watched her glide through the reception the previous night with wonder, she took to the court like a natural. He knew that she had been brought up in the Antivan court but to see her in action left him feeling inadequate. His mistakes with courtly ways had become fewer and fewer over the past two years but he never felt at his ease in the way that she seemed to. And she was beautiful, so beautiful that he kept staring at her to convince himself that his recollection of her beauty had not been exaggerated. Last night more than one courtier had made hushed comments about Alistair's great fortune in gaining such a prize. For Alistair though, he thought it would have been easier if she had been plain.

"Meerene," he began in a hushed voice, "there is something that I must discuss with you before we are wed tomorrow. I would not ask you to marry me in ignorance." Meerene caught her breath, braced for something awful. He looked at her as though expecting a response but, faced with her silence, continued. "You may have heard rumours that I travelled with the Hero of Ferelden during the blight. They are true, but it goes beyond that. I was a Grey Warden. I joined long before the Blight, before I ever thought that I could be King one day." Meerene rested a calming hand on his arm and felt him tense.

"Alistair there is no shame in that, the Grey Wardens are a noble order..."

"I am not ashamed," he cut her off gently, "I am proud of my service. It's just that there are things about being a Grey Warden that make marriage more difficult. I have taken an oath that means that I can't tell you very much about the process of becoming a Grey Warden. But I can't let you marry me without warning you. Grey Wardens struggle to conceive children."

"What do you mean struggle?" Meerene asked cautiously.

"It may not be possible for us to conceive," Alistair said bluntly a slight pinkness around his ears, "it shouldn't come to that, Grey Wardens have had children before and we think it's easier when the woman is not a Warden. We would try and in time I hope that it would work but I couldn't allow you to marry me without knowing how difficult it might be. Few people know that I was a Grey Warden and we can't tell them so they may assume that the problem is with you. I am sorry..." he trailed off and they continued walking in silence. Meerene's mind was racing, she could almost hear Dayla's voice in her head. The courtesan would tell her to reassure him quickly, that his vulnerability was to her advantage; she could gain his trust by keeping his secret and his affection by indicating that she was more interested in him than the children he could provide. On the other hand, her father's advice to her had been to conceive as quickly as possible; a childless queen was far easier to sweep aside than the mother of the heir. Even before her engagement she had never seriously considered the possibility of not having children and once she knew she was to marry a King she had expected that pregnancy and motherhood would soon follow.

"Alistair, I am sorry, you have caught me unprepared..." she said, stalling for time.

"There is more," he said reluctantly, thinking that it would be better to have everything out in the open before she replied, she looked at him with wide eyes. "Wardens do not live as long as other people. I am in my twenty third year now, I was recruited into the Grey Wardens when I was nineteen. The err... process affects everyone differently, it may be that I have as little as six years left or I may have twenty-six. Kallian Tabris, the Hero of Ferelden, is searching for a cure but there have been Wardens for a long time and as far as I know none have avoided an early death. She will try and she has a habit of succeeding but it would be unfair to you to suggest that a cure is likely. I would ensure that you were taken care of after my death but, if things go badly, you may be a childless widow before the age of thirty." Meerene's eyes darted from side to side, her hand on his was shaking; this was not what she had expected. Could he not have written to her and told her these things? If she returned home now everyone would think that she had failed to charm him, that he had seen some flaw in her that made her unsuitable.

"You have given me a great deal to think about," she said, a shake to her voice, "you are not a Grey Warden anymore, are you sure that these things still affect you?"

"Yes, being a Grey Warden is not a job, it is a part of who I am. I cannot escape it. My lady, I would understand if you did not wish to go through with the wedding..." he began, guilt rising at the hope swelling within him.

"I am not saying that Alistair," Meerene said hurriedly, "it's just a lot to consider. I am sorry for you, I will pray for a cure and for a child. Of course this does not change things between us, what kind of woman would I be if I abandoned my husband because of such an ailment." Alistair tried to conceal his consternation at her addressing him as her husband. It was all becoming too real, too iminent.

"You should think about it before you answer," he insisted, "tell me at dinner whether you wish to go ahead. I promise that I will think no less of you if you do not." Meerene almost laughed, he might not think less of her but to everyone else her reputation would be damaged, perhaps irreperably.

"I will think about it Alistair," she said looking up at him from beneath thick lashes, "but I cannot imagine that anything would prevent me from wishing to marry you. You make quite the first impression."

Kallian Tabris pulled her horse into a walk as they passed through the gates of Denerim, a small group of Grey Wardens riding behind her. She felt the familiar sense of being on her guard that she always did when she was in any part of the city other than the Alienage. It was a relic from her past, she knew that she was now welcome wherever she went, that tonight she would sleep in the palace itself, but still she felt as though every shopkeeper was waiting to accuse her of stealing and every passerby clutched their purses a little more tightly as she passed. Still it was a beautiful day and she had enjoyed the ride, She was looking forward to seeing her father.

She held on to these positive thoughts as they approached the castle but as they turned into the square that contained the steps leading up to the palace she felt her positivity slipping. A party was gathered at the top of the stairs to greet her. Her eyes, as they always did went straight to Alistair. As she dismounted, he descended the stairs, a smile on his lips, the same warm, solid presence that she loved so much. But this time there was another woman on his arm.

"Lady Warden," Alistair began formally, "I am pleased to introduce you Lady Mereene of Antiva" Kallian dropped into a bob that was somewhere between a bow and a curtsey. Meerene watched the half-elven woman with excitement. She had heard stories of Kallian Tabris, her name was always mentioned with reverence. When Alistair had mentioned that the Hero of Ferelden would be arriving that very afternoon Meerene had been as anxious to impress as she expected Kallian must be. Now that they were face to face Meerene was not disappointed. Meerene wore a light leather breastplate with ornate crossed short swords across her back. Her legs were covered by dark leggings above which leather strips formed a tassled skirt allowing for easy riding and movement. Kallian's whole body seemed constantly tense, ready to run or dance or fight at a moment's notice. Her sharply angled face spoke of her elven father but in a pinch Meerene suspected that she could pass for human. She wasn't classically pretty but there was something strikingly beautiful in her dark hair and eyes.

"An honour my Lady," Kallian said stiffly running a critical eye over the woman who was to be Alistair's wife. She was not pleased with what she saw. Almost apologetically Alistair had told her that Meerene had a reputation as one of the most beautiful women at the Antivan court but at the time that had seemed a distant prospect. Now Meerene stood before her, a vision of femininity, it suddenly mattered a lot more. Meerene was blonde, her hair a thick sheet of gold falling in waves to her waist, her skin was pale bronze and her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She was taller than Kallian, almost all humans were, but only just. One gloved hand rested confidently on Alistair's arm and she extended the other to Kallian who bowed her head over it.

"Lady Warden, the honour is mine," she said, a soft accent in her voice, "my people owe you a great debt for your service during the Blight." Kallian smiled awkwardly.

"Thank you my Lady," she said.

"You must be tired from your ride," Alistair said, eager to break the awkward silence, "come inside, your usual rooms have been prepared for you and your men shall have rooms in the barracks. Can we offer you refreshments?"

"Later perhaps your Majesty, we have been travelling all morning and would like to get settled."

"Of course!" Alistair exclaimed, "don't let me keep you," he said with a laugh. Kallian followed him up the steps, watching Meerene's dress sway about her with rising alarm.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was setting as Meerene took her seat beside Alistair on the dais at the head of the hall. She settled her skirts on the comfortable but plain chair beside his throne and looked forward to the following evening when she too would sit a throne. Her hair was down but pushed back with a simple coronet, just enough to suggest the queen that she would soon be but not enough that she would be thought presumptuous. Her dress was a deep purple and flattered her bronze skin in the late afternoon light streaming through the arched windows. Alistair leant towards her casually and she was immediately captured by the sight of him, eyes dancing around the hall, hair golden in the glowing light and handsome lips smiling at her arrival.

"Have you thought on what we spoke of this morning?" he asked, voice low and conspiratorial. Meerene noticed with pleasure the looks that their whispered conversation was attracting, knowing glances marked their King's obvious regard for his bride.

"I have," she confirmed leaning closer still, "Alistair I very much doubt that there is a thing that you could say which would deter me now that I have had the pleasure of meeting you. That you have suffered and may yet suffer for your sacrifices to protect us all from the Blight only increases my regard for you. What kind of woman would I be if I turned away from you because of your affliction? No Alistair, I intend to marry you tomorrow and all you have said has only assured me that to do so would be wise. That is," she said looking up at him from beneath thick lashes, "if you will have me." As she said it she let her hand come to rest on his bare forearm. She saw him react to their first skin to skin contact as though a shudder flickered through him. She smiled as his eyes darted to her hand and back to her face. His skin was warm, almost hot and she could feel the strength of him beneath her slender fingers as she leant so close that he could feel her soft breath on his cheek. "Will you Alistair?" She breathed.

"Of... of course," he stammered feeling himself blush lightly. She grinned and sat back in her seat, beginning to ask him about the hounds that he had heard he was fond of and to pick daintily at her food. Alistair watched her in consternation, his eyes slid to Kallian who was sitting in a place of honour at one of the tables below them and met her staring back. She raised an eyebrow before returning to her own conversation. Alistair felt like a child caught at some mischief, he did not enjoy the feeling. He answered Meerene's questions distractedly as he ate wishing that he could take back his reaction to her touch. As they rose to retire she stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek blushing as she did so.

"Until tomorrow Alistair," she said softly, "I fear that I shall not be able to sleep for thinking of you." She dropped into a dramatic curtsey and then swept away from him with a coy backwards glance. Alistair frowned as he turned towards his own chambers.

The door that joined a particular guest chamber to his lay behind a tapestry in his room and he barely paused in his bedchamber before hurrying through it. The passage was unlit but well maintained, he carried a candle to light his way but the route was so well known to him now that he could have found it in the pitch dark. Arriving at the door that marked the far end of the passage he pulled a cord hanging from the wall and a low bell sounded. From the room beyond the door it would be impossible to tell where the sound came from. Those who did not know better might think the ringing sounded from a neighbouring room. The door opened silently, hinges well-oiled to ensure that it was so and he stepped into the room beyond letting Kallian close the door behind him.

He turned to her. She had changed since dinner and was dressed in a simple robe of cream tied loosely at her waist with her hair down about her shoulders. She held a mug of steaming tea that smelled of lavender and oats. She placed the mug on a small table that sat between two armchairs facing the empty fireplace and he pulled her quickly into an embrace. His lips found hers, so warm, so familiar, so missed since they had last met.

Kallian kissed him fervently, one hand clasping the back of his neck, the other pressed firmly against his chest. All thoughts of tea and conversation forgotten she broke away and took his hand to lead him to bed, he started to speak and she pressed a finger to his lips. He did not resist her gentle push that guided him onto the thin sheet that covered the mattress. She knelt above him, bringing her lips back to his and then onto his neck. Kallian savoured the taste of his skin as his hands caressed her arms before travelling up and burying themselves in her dark hair.

Alistair grinned as she trailed kisses down to his chest, pushing aside his shirt as she went. Maker, how he had missed her. Over the years he had never grown used to her absence. They had sought so many excuses to keep her at Court but there was only so much that they could do without arousing suspicion or neglecting their duties. He reached for the belt of her robe and she shrugged it off, leaving her in a thin cream nightgown which seemed to float above her skin. Kallian smiled as he drew his shirt over his head, enjoying the sight of his hard muscles and pale, sculpted skin. Her hands travelled over his body as he watched her above him, delighting in the way her rapt eyes devoured his flesh.

He gave her a moment to enjoy the sight of him before rising and turning her so that she lay beneath him. Instinctively her legs parted and wrapped themselves around his waist, gripping him to her. Alistair pushed the fabric of her nightgown down her legs, revealing her slender hips and taught stomach. He loved the strength behind her every move, leaving him in no doubt that the woman beneath him was no delicate flower in need of his protection but his equal in every way. She could feel him hard against her, sense his urgency as she unlaced his breeches. Still his hand dipped between them, eager to please, as he sought her warm, wetness. She shook her head frantically, there would be time for art and teasing later, now she needed him deep and hard within her, needed to claim him as hers again after his long absence.

There was a soft thud as the remains of their clothes hit the rug by the bed and then, with a questioning look from him and an answering nod from her, he was inside her. She cried out at that first thrust, always as though she was surprised by his size and passion. Alistair let out a groan at the sudden tightness, the look of triumphant delight in her eyes and his own joy at her closeness. There had always been an element of competition in their love-making, each fighting to give the other the most pleasure, to see them crumble in ecstasy before them. Kallian bit her lip as Alistair sheathed himself fully inside of her, revelling in the sense of completion but did not stop moving. She matched the pace that he set with ease, both crashing together consumed by instinct and desperation to remain intertwined. Soon, far too soon, they would be apart again and they clung together, kissing and touching, moaning and sighing, thrusting and shuddering, lost in each other until Kallian cried her release, lightly biting his strong shoulder to muffle the sound. Letting go Alistair joined her climax with one last thrust and they tumbled together into oblivion.

Alistair rolled to her side, drawing her face to his and kissing her. They broke the kiss and she laid her head on his chest, eyes still closed, breathing in his scent as their breathing slowed and calmed together.

"I wondered if you would visit tonight," she murmured after a long contented silence. Alistair turned to look at the top of her head nestled into him.

"Of course I came Kallian, how could I not? It's been over a month since I've seen you." She turned her face upwards to look at him, propping herself on her crooked arm.

"I know that you are uncomfortable about the marriage and I thought that seeing me the night before the wedding might make you uneasy." Alistair sighed.

"The whole situation makes me uneasy Kallian," he said truthfully, "adultery does not sit well with me." Kallian shook her head and stood up. She stretched contentedly, aware of his eyes roaming her nakedness. She picked up her mug of tea and scampered back to the bed. Taking a sip as she sat with her toes curled beneath her she watched him in the dim candlelight.

"We have been through this so many times, there is no choice. There must be a legitimate, noble blooded, fully human heir, something that I cannot give you." Alistair nodded reluctantly.

"I know all that, I am resigned to it but you can't expect me to like it," Kallian laughed.

"You know many men would be delighted to be in your position," he glared at her.

"And how I wish they were," he said wryly.

"She is beautiful," Kallian said matter-of-factly staring into her mug. Alistair reached out a hand to her which she took.

"Yes, she is," he admitted, "but you know..." she cut him off.

"I know, I am fine Alistair, I know that you love me, that you always will. Is she what you expected?" Alistair considered.

"Honestly, I don't think that I expected much. I think that until she actually arrived here she was just an inconvenience, not a person. Now that she's here... she's a pleasant girl, so far as I can tell from the times that we've spoken. She seems very eager to please. She's as described, she's pretty, cultured, excellent with the Court and generally charming. But she's not my type." Kallian raised her eyebrows.

"Are you saying I'm not pretty, cultured, excellent with the Court and generally charming?" She said in mock outrage.

"Oh no, you're my little street rat," he said with a laugh, "hideously ugly, dim-witted and a social dunce. I don't know why someone in my exalted position puts up with you." She slapped him playfully and he continued, "I mean that she's just another noble woman who sets my teeth on edge, every moment with someone like her reminds me of the social graces that I lack. Besides, as I said she's so keen to please that I have barely any idea of whether she tells me things because they're true or because she thinks I want to hear them. Still, I suppose that she will serve, she'll look pleasant around the place and I'm constantly assured that her family is famously fertile. Once we have an heir I see no need for us to spend a great deal of time together." Kallian nodded.

"Have you told her that?" Alistair shook her head.

"No, but I see no reason that she would think otherwise."

"Alistair you are a handsome King who is about to become her husband, there is no young woman alive who would not at least hope otherwise," he shifted uncomfortably.

"Well she will find out soon," he said firmly, "now, put that drink aside and stop talking of her. You are the only woman I wish to think of, tonight or ever, and I am far, far from done with you this evening." Kallian gulped down the remaining luke warm liquid and set the cup on the bedside table. With one quick move she straddled him with a wicked grin.

"I think you'll find," she whispered, "that it is I who have not finished with you."


	4. Chapter 4

Coincidentally Alistair and Meerene's eyes opened at almost exactly the same moment on the day of their wedding. The cold light of early dawn was filtering through the windows of the castle throwing long shadows across the stone walls. Their reactions to their awakenings were somewhat different.

Meerene's hand darted for the bell beside her bed almost immediately and by the time the door was opened by a harassed looking Pyra followed by a troop of maids. she was already out of bed and throwing open the doors to her balcony. She breathed in the crisp morning air, already starting to show hints of the warm day that it would become. As Meerene turned back to her room to see her bed being made, a copper tub being placed in front of the fireplace and filled with warm, scented water and a breakfast tray being set down on an ornate round table she smiled, this was treatment that she could get used to.

"Good morning my Lady," Pyra said seating herself at Meerene's table and gesturing for Meerene to join her and eat. Reluctantly Meerene sat and nibbled on the corner of some toast while Pyra's chatter washed over her. She learnt that the maid's of Ferelden had been compeltely ignorant of how to properly scent a bath until Pyra had educated them, that the Ferelden beds were too hard to suit refined Antivan sleep and that nothing in all Thedas could induce Pyra to repeat the experience of eating Ferelden food. After she had been properly fed Meerene was allowed to sink into the warm water of the copper tub. She lay still, enjoying the orange and rose aromas of the water as Pyra rubbed Antivan oils into her golden hair and a maid carefully ran a razor over her skin, ensuring that there was not a hair left on her body that did not crown her head.

"Are you nervous my Lady?" Pyra asked, an almost motherly tone in her voice though she was less than ten years her mistresses senior. Meerene considered, there was certainly a light headed fluttering about her when she thought about the day ahead.

"A little perhaps," she conceded, "it is no small thing to become a queen."

"And no small thing to marry a man," Pyra said a note of mischief in her voice. Meerene let out a snort of laughter but stiffed it quickly, she had considered making a joke that she certainly hoped it wasn't a small thing but she didn't think that Pyra would approve. She could feel herself blushing at the very thought.

"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, "I am somewhat nervous about... that aspect of things..." she trailed off. Pyra paused.

"There is no need to concern yourself. The King seems like a kind man and that is all you need to get through it. Just don't expect too much at first, my dear husband, Maker rest him, was a kind man and we... grew to know one another over time. The first time is always... uncomfortable but it will become easier if he is patient with you." Meerene smiled, she could not imagine Alistair being anything other than patient, "and it is always easier with a handsome man I should think," Pyra said and they both laughed.

"Well he is that," Meerene said between her giggles, "oh let's hurry and get me dressed, I want to see myself in my dress again."

Unlike his bride Alistair did not jump out of bed when his eyes slid slowly open. Instead he shut them again, threw an arm over Kallian and pulled her closer to him so that her back rested against his front.

"Alistair," she complained, "I was sleeping."

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear.

"S'okay," she muttered settling against him, "you should go, someone will come looking for you," he sighed.

"Soon, it's still early," Kallian opened one eye and saw the light.

"Not early enough," she said rolling to face him, "you have a lot to do today." He opened his eyes to find her solemnly gazing back at him, all trace of the previous day's good humoured confidence gone. Not knowing what to say he kissed her hoping to reassure her that nothing would change between them.

"Kallian," he whispered as he broke away, "you know that I'm yours don't you? This is all just... a show we have to get through. I am yours, always will be." She nodded.

"Please don't forget it," she said softly, "I know she's beautiful and charming but I love you Alistair." He nodded.

"I could never forget it," he replied, "I love you, and nothing that happens today will change that."


End file.
